so when my dad called me and asked me to call the church my brother says he wants services at, i thought it was a little strange. dad, aren't we jumping the gun here a little bit? i mean, he's not dead. nope dad says. ok fine. called and made the initial contact and talked about the date my dad mentioned.

then shortly before dinner, my brother's mother (formaly known as the bitch who shall remain nameless, but that's a little too harsh under the present circumstances), called to ask me to start writing an obiutuary for my brother. is he gone, i ask shakily. no, no he's not gone, but we want you to work on it now, so you can bring it with you tomorrow and we can proof read it.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

HEY ASSHOLES........HE'S NOT FUCKING DEAD YET!!!!

when i say my family is some kind of crazy, now you know what i'm getting at. i mean they aren't 17 cats kinda crazy....we are talking manifesto-writting-shack-in-the-woods crazy.

i get that in extreme, abysmal situations one must exert whatever control one can get or has. but seriously, writting an obit for the not quite dead? that's just morbid and crepy and sad and weird.

and why am i the one to do it? i ask hubbin, frustrated. because you are the only one who can. i know you don't feel like you are thinking clearly, but you are. you are the only one who is. no one else in that family even knows the half, and that's why they come to you, because they know you can.

and then he gave me a big hug and it was the best part of my day. thankfully, aunt iowa is probably coming up this weekend, a little bit of sane is all i need. just a little bit.

powered by ODEO

ok, just to clear something up that you are going to hear on the Podcast...when i mention the Virgin Mary, what i meant was her image - the one that appears in eggs and trees and chips, usually somewhere in mexico. i say a nasty word in the same sentence and i didn't mean the big C (cunt) i meant the little c (clit). it'll all make sense when you listen to it.

and yeah, don't stand too close - the lighthing may strike me at any moment.

as for ms. davidson and her crappy, shitty, horrible, nasty little book here...don't encourage these people. the original post had a link to the book and her personal website (complete with a picture of soccer mom bangs).

this just makes me think that JCSG and i could totally write a book at get it published. but if you are looking for some vampire romance - head over to myspace.com - better written and much more entertaining.

it's days like this that i really miss my mom. she was so wonderful to talk to about just stupid stuff. i never felt comfortable doing that with any of my friends. i mean, not on a regular basis.

i feel like there is a log jam in my head. i was trying to describe it to paulo on saturday and he totally got it (my new brother-in-law has lost both his parents). he gave me a hug and it made my eyes water in a cute commercial kinda way.

i am just tired and achy today. like i slept wrong for a week, on a metal slab. and boo isn't feeling well, running nose - my fave! poor thing. we are both cuddle bugs today, which is nice. i just wish i had more friends to talk to about dumb assinine stuff.

but it's not dumb. it's serious, very very serious. so. what's a girl to do?

my brother is still in the hospital. i think his kidneys are failing. he's coming off of a massive morphine addiction and i'm afraid he's going to die. last year i talked about death coming in three's. my aunt may, stoner cousins hubba's mom, my mom.

last week a close family friend lost her father, and i am now fearing the three again.

this is going to sound horrible, but i am not afraid of losing my brother. i love him, don't get me wrong. but he was never a part of my life. so his absence from my life isn't going to matter much. some siblings are like that. we've never been close, and for a long time he resented me having two parents. we never really had a great relationship.

what scares me, what worries me, what makes me feel helpless and inadequate is dealing with my dad after his death. my dad is in no way emotionally equipted to handle losing a child. not without his rock, his center, my mother's kind words and loving help. i'm simply next in line. and i don't know how to be able to help him.

i will miss my brother, i will help his wife and kids in any way that i can. and in a way, i'd like for all of this to be over. i'd like to be able to live life without waiting for the other shoe to drop. not live on pins and needles and get no sleep and hurt and ache and be tired and not quite myself.

there has got to be an end to this. it can't go on.

i finally, finally, finally went down to see my brother at the Mayo. i picked up my dad and saw the BWSRN. it was hard seeing my brother, although i have seen him after much more invasive surgeries, he looked green. like an ash grey green. and his kidney's aren't working. the put stints in both because the one was like entirely shut down and the other one was starting to. so the majorly blocked kidney - his right one i think - they ported and it isn't draining properly. the left one was ported successfully and is draining, but it's only draining blood right now and i guess that's normal after surgery, but not for as long as his has been draining blood, it should have changed.

blood doesn't gross me out. needles don't gross me out. seeing someone die didn't gross me out. what's hard for me is seeing my toothpick of a brother lying there, green, and knowing that he's never going to feel any better.

what's also hard for me is seeing my dad go through all of this. and i guess shitbagfuckface has been down there causing all kinds of trouble. thinking that he should be involved in decisions regarding my brother's care. which is a joke.

you know, i'll tell you something about shitbagfuckface. he's the dead branch on the family tree, the one that doesn't grow leaves, but doesn't fall off. i want nothing to do with him and i will go to whatever ends necessary to keep boo away from him. when she was born, hubbin convinced me to add his name to my family tree in her baby book. i honeslty would have left it blank.

the BWSRN is starting to do her part. she's been shielded from a lot of this up until now, my mom was towing the line here while the BWSRN was "wintering" in arizona of in palm springs with the "girls". it wasn't my brother's mom who was driving him to radiation everyday, five days a week, four weeks at a time; that was my mom.

and she should be here. she'd want to be here, helping him. she'd be the only one to provide him the kind of mom comfort she was famous for. i don't have it in me yet. i mean, i am good at wiping boo's nose and keeping her warm. but i'm still in the infancy of motherhood. and my mom was a pro.

so i drove to and from the mayo yesterday and then hauled ass up to elk river for hubbin's family's holiday party. more on that later, because paulo gave me a hug that made me cry. and then i had really strange dreams.

my brother, the one with cancer, is down at Mayo still. they found a blockage in one of his kidney's so they are putting in a stint. my poor dad is down there with his ex-wife - the bitch who shall remain nameless or BWSRN - my brothers mother.

it's one of those pointless days. there is tons to do, no motivation anywhere, and all i want is for this to be over.

i hate that my dad is down there alone. my mom died young. she should still be here. she should be down there with him, not the BWSRN. and i feel like i should be down there too. mom would be getting him ice cream and telling the nurses he needs to take a bath. all i did was send flowers.

i just...wish so much that things were different. for him, for my dad, for my mom, and for me. i hate being in a family that i cannot rely on, but who, for some dumb reason, relies on me.

calgon, take me awaaaaayyyy.

boo started school/daycare again. i dropped her off yesterday morning and she didn't even stop to take her coat off. she just headed over to the reading circle and sat down ready for a book.

just proves my theory that school is good for her, and yes, she does get sick of me.

i had a wonderful dream last night about my main man, chris robinson. for weeks i have been searching the internet for pictures of mr. r's right hand tattoo, because it's excatly what i want. and last night he came to me in a dream and was sweet and wonderful and soulful, but a bit sad.

he held my hand and told me he would help.

then we watched a little league baseball game and folded laundry. it filled me with that peaceful kind of normal you only get from someone you have known and loved for a really long time.

i love it when things like this come to me. it just makes my whole day!

i've been talking to my brother, the one with cancer, everyday since he's been in the hospital, sometimes twice a day. and when i called my stoner cousin and her hubba to give them the news, they were very concerned that my brother might lose his leg.

"oh no, it's nothing like that you guys." i said, laughing. "it's not that serious."

then i call my brother, and tell him that i talked to them, and that they were going to be calling. then i told him that they were really concerned about him losing his leg and i was joking about it, and laughing - trying to get him to...i dunno....lighten up.

then he tells me that it's an option. if they can't get the swelling down, they will consider it. and i didn't freak out, but i felt really bad for joking about it. and i told him how sorry i was. he was cool with it, saying "they might want it, but they aren't going to get it. i'm not going to be a peg-leg." and that eased my mind.

the funny thing was, is that when i told hubbin, he said "well, that would certianly solve the problem of him driving." and we both laughed.

my brother tends to take about 2000mg of morphine a day. and he really likes popping pills and then going somewhere in the car - and he insists on driving. so without his right leg, it would slow him down a bit, but not for long.

he'd be first in line at the courage center getting one of those specially adapted vans. he wouldn't stop taking the morphine mind you, but he'd keep driving.

i hope he stays full of piss and vinegar - i think it's what's keeping him alive.
.

in trying to explain the situation to tig, he made a comment about how i was giving him a medical explination about my brother's condition, and nothing about how i was feeling about it. my brother has been battling cancer for so long i guess i've lost all feeling about it. maybe i am still numb from the loss of my mother. who knows.

my brother is down at the mayo getting massive radiation treatments on his leg and hip. the tumor is putting pressure on the veins on his leg, so blood is going in, but having a hard time getting out. his leg is really swollen and has been for over a month. he can't walk on it, and can't put any weight on it.

so four intense raditation treatments in four days to try and get the swelling down and it's not going to work. they need to operate, but he's so underweight and immuno-compromized, that they don't want to cut him open. the type of cancer that he has creates it own blood flow, so cutting tumors out can be done, but he bleeds like a mutha and has to have lots of transfusions.

my dad and shitbagfuckface (the "other" brother) are down there with him now. slooty was supposed to bring the kids over today, but i haven't heard from her, so we are in a bit of a holding pattern. which i don't mind, i like the down time, but i had to cancel some plans because of it.

i have tried talking to my dad, and checking in with him. he's not really into the talking mode. it's all business - he's advocating for my brother and putting up with shitbagfuckface. when i talked to my brother (the one with cancer), i joked and said that i was going to call his mom, so it could be a complete family reunion. he laughed at said that wasn't a good idea.

at least i got him laughing.

i just had a shaky conversation with my dad. my brother, the one with cancer, isn't doing well, at all. i guess he hasn't been out of bed for a few days and is really having a hard time. my dad e-mailed the doctor down at the mayo clinic (we should get frequent flyer miles with them) and told him that my brother needed to be hospitalized immediately or that he needed to sign orders allowing for hospice care.

one of the positive things that i tried to take out of my mother's death experience was that - when it came to be my brother's turn, i'd have gone through it once and could be more of a help to others, like my sister-in-law, my dad, bubba and kk. not that my mom was a trial run - but i was WAY more prepared for it than anyone else. and my sister-in-law has her own bullshit (cough couch felony charges impending cough cough).

it just doesn't seem fair that this could be happening all over again. my dad isn't ready for it, he can't take it. i mean, on the good side, i convinced him to see a counselor, but i'm afraid it's going to be too late. what's worse than losing your life partner?

losing your child.

and it just absolutely breaks my heart that i have to watch him go through all of ths. my brother and i have never really been close. he's never been the beat up the boy who made me cry kinda guy. and it sounds horrible to say, but, he's never really been a big part of my life. slooty and the kids on the other hand; they are what's left. they are the ones that i have to worry about and be there for. i can't help my brother.

remember a few posts ago, when i was talking about being engaged, but remaining detached. in the madeline l'engle book that i'm reading she talks about just that. and she writes that the bridge between engagement and detachment is compassion. and this makes perfect sense to me.

i need to be close and engaged for the kids, to give them my love and compassion and remain a part of their lives. things are going to get mighty screwed up for them if their dad dies and mom does jail time. so when i am asked, why do i care, what am i doing all of this for - i can now say, compassion.

i am so tkaing a vacation when all of this is done.

ok,ok,ok,ok,ok,ok.....OK.

10 years ago animaniacs had this spoof with pigeons "the goodfeathers" and like one was joe pesci and one was robert de niro and it was really funny. one episode, they did this musical to martin scorsese, becuase the city had just erected a statue of him in central park and as pigeons, they vowed not to crap on it - or something.

and the golden globes set the tone for the oscars. do i think eddie murphy will win for best supporting actor - hell no. but will/should scorsese win for the departed - hell yes!

so all i can think about now is that overture from goodfeathers, "Scorsese! Scor-se-seee!" and fuck if i can find it on youtube. guess i'll have to get it on nextflix - see previous post.

ok, i have a problem. i am completely addicted to TV. for a while, hubbin and swore off the stuff, but now it's almost all i want to do when i'm not looking after boo. lost, 24, the office, studio 60, family guy, american idol, la femme nikita (don't knock le femme - it's paved the way for 24), daily show, countdown, futurama, the colbert report. i love them all like they were chandler getting dumped by janice.

i don't use netflix for movies, i use it for TV. i don't have time to watch regular TV so we record it on the computer and watch it when we can. we are the prefect candidates for TiVo if it didn't cost so damn much.

it's all i want to do - i could just head up to the cabin for a month and watch TV.

so. does this make me lazy? no, not really because i don't watch a lot of TV during the day. it's just what i want to do. but i don"t actually do it. and that is really pathetic.

anncisfrancis with ants in her pantsis. i met anncisfrancis for coffee yesterday morning and we ended up spending the WHOLE day at Barnes and Noble. It was fuckin awesome! she was able to talk openly and freely and i got a few things off my chest too. then....

then....
then....

her hubba popped in. like - OH...i didn't know you would be here for coffee. and she's like - duh i told you we were coming here! and he doesn't remember, because she told him when he was drunk. and this was kinda why we were geting together.

anyhoot, we ended up talking, just the three of us for hours and it was great! then we kept the party going by meeting hubbin for dinner and going to see james bond. it was super sweet.

i totally feel like a person again. it's amazing what talking to another adult in person can do.

oh, and just so you know, this is the first post written on my new MacBook laptop that i got from hubbin for X-mas. jcsg and i named it jack. jack the mac.

i had a terrible dream last night. in the dream, my mom told me she had borrowed money from a man named DT. and he was in the irish mob and they were going to kill her if she didn't pay the money back. there were people surrounding the house with guns and when i called the police, the police thought it was a prank call.

boo was inside with me and all i could think about was her. how she won't sit still and be quiet and the mick mob was coming for us. it was horrible. i woke up feeling stalked and helpless.

i am scared and vulnerable today. i feel like, because i made a claim on my mom's life insurance, that someone is going to come and threaten me for the money. like i'll be blackmailed or something. i don't want to open the door today.

and i don't want to talk to anyone or tell anyone about it because they'd think it was stupid. "it's just a dream" they'll say, "you're over-reacting". yeah, well maybe. but i'ms till spooked enough to greatly affected by the dream at 10 in the morning.

during the time that my mom was ill, i contacted the "befrienders" ministry at our church (yes, i go to church occasionally). they were able to connect my mom with a wonderful woman named Marlene. marlene wanted to come to the hospital during my mom's last days and she didn't make it. but on the friday night that my mom passed, she called and told me something.

she told me that she and my mom talked a lot about what was happening to her and what she wanted at the end, as far as funeral arrangements, etc. she helped my mom write some final letters, etc. she said that my mom asked her if she only had 24 hours left to live, what would she spend her day doing? i don't remember what marlene's answer was, but she was very specific about what my mom told her.

she said, you're mom wanted to spend the whole day shopping with boo, and then if boo got tired, she would hold her and carry her and sleep with her and never let her go. and it brings tears to my eyes to write it. but it's so sweet and so my mother, that it just breaks my heart.

and at the end of her life, when my mom was silently slipping away from us, i kept telling her what a wonderful day she had, that she had spent the whole day shopping with boo, and now she's tired. and that she wanted to hold boo, but that i was going to hold her. i kept telling her that it was ok to be tired. it was ok to go, and that boo was home, safe and in bed dreaming about her. just as she was dreaming about boo.

and that's how my mom eventually left this world. with positive thoughts that i was going to be ok, that i would take care of boo, that she had spent the day shopping and bought everyone their favorite things and now it was time to rest. it's ok to rest, and she knew that.

it just breaks my heart that i'll never see her again, never talk to her, never hold her hand and hear her call me "sunshine".

and all of this comes flooding back to me, as i try to write marlene a thank you note. how do i even begin?

i am in total housewife mode today, changing sheets, doing laundry, doing dishes, organizing, etc. it feels good to excerise some control over things that i feel are just annoying. might not mean that i have control over my life, because i don't. but at least some of my "house" is in order, even if it is my literal house.

two great things happened yesterday. i reconnected with friends. i finally, finally, FINALLY, got together with JCSG and we had a really nice dinner. the service sucked, but the company was top notch. i did however feel like one of those crazy stay at home mom's, where someone asks me something and i talk nonstop for 20 minutes because i have no other adult contact. i caught myself doing in though and apologized. thank god JCSG is one of the niceset people on the planet. she puts up with my insanity, adds to it when she can, but also let's me just be me. i love her dearly for it. that's why i'm going to work really hard to get her laid this year.

also, anncisfrancis called me. she and her hubba are having some issues and she needs a friend. i am honored that she chose me. she and her hubba are terrific people, and we love spending time with them, we have a great time when we see them, but we don't see each other that often. and she's got one of the best laughs EVA! it's so infectious. there has been more than one occasion that i have to squeeze my legs together and excuse myself rapidly to make it to the bathroom.

i am greatful for the distraction, and by people that i truly care about and this is going to sound totally snobby and bitchy, but... people who appreciate me. i mean, i'm not friends with people because of what i get in return. but anncisfrancis was really sweet about my offer to meet this weekend to talk, and she took me up on it right away. it's one of the most courageous things, to ask for help, to accept it.

so i raise my mug of quickly cooling tea to these two ladies, thank you, thank you, thank you. thank you for making me feel like i have something to offer, that i am someones friend, that i'm human and have a role is other peoples lives.

here's to the sistas!

at one point, boo's doctor wrote on an official medical form that she was "plenty cute". therefore, when i say that my daughter is a angel, i have a doctor's note to back me up. in his medical opinion she was cute. no way 'round that!

and yesterday, as i was sitting in the plastic surgeon's office (don't ask) she commented on how i have a text book nose. it's the nose they have been trying to give to people for years, and there it was, right on my face - natural and unaltered - and, as she said, it was perfect. i have a perfect nose. it's the nose everyone wants. it's the nose none of the surgeons can quite get.

in her medical opinion, i have a perfect nose. and great skin too. and i'm sure in her days as a plastic surgeon she's seen some junk. so i am confident that she wasn't just blowing smoke up my ass.

so why am i telling you all of this? because it's not all negativity with me. it's not all bad. and i need to convince myself of that fact over and over and over again.

every day, at some point, i become breathless at the beauty of my daughter. she will turn her head in just such a way and it's like catching a glimps of heaven. she will laugh and throw her arms out to me and fall into me with more love and trust than i'll ever know, and all is right with the world.

or she will be still, eyes wide, rosy checked, and i think i'm looking at a cherub. hubbin and i will comment on her beauty and give the other credit for her good looks and endless charm. but this last week, things have changed.

she's me.

finally, hubbin admited that she looks more and more like me. and today, my triump happened. a completely stranger at the post office said she was exactly like her mom. i was wearing sun-glasses and boo had her hood up, but the other two people in line promtly agreed. my soul sang.

she is etheral and perfect and if people say she looks just like me. well......'nuff said.

i stayed up until 2am last night for now reason, other than i was watching DVD's. that's so lame it makes my teeth hurt. hubbin was working on the basement and did get somethings done. there is so much to do i can't believe that we are 90% done.

hubbin and i worked almost all day together on the basement. we talked a little, about what was bother me about his seemingly total lack of interest in anything i have to say about my family or the fact that my mother was a major source of love in my life and now that has vanished into ether.

where do strong women go to break? who takes care of the people who take care of everything else? i have never been more hurt by what he said or didn't say. i don't know if i'll ever get over it. i feel like permanent damage has been done here. and i don't want to play the poor me role, but hubbin will have no idea how to even try to make amends, so he won't. it will just be the elephant in the room for the next thirty years.

even when he says he wants to talk about it, he doesn't. when he says he'll listen, he won't. he, by no fault of his own, isn't a very passionate or compassionate person. and i need compassion right now.

part of the venomous spew that i wrote the other night was about how it seems that everyone has abandonded me, it seems that way, to me. now, is this true? no. but it feels that way. almost everyone gets this dazed look on their face or falls silent in a bored kinda way when i try to talk about how i'm doing, and my family, and my mom.

and i find it so hard to believe that we, as a society, as human, can't grasp the one thing that binds us all? death. at some point it happens to someone you know, someone you love. and it's right up there with sex on the list of things you "can't" talk about. so everyone is incredibly inept at dealing with it, either in their own life or as a friend or relation to someone else who is dealing with it.

this bugs the shit out of me. this attitude of "well, i don't know how to deal with it, so i won't. i won't even try."

milksops.
fools.
cowards.

i hope some of this cynicism washes off the next time i take a shower - sheesh!

i hav4e adopted the category of "engaged, but detached" when dealing with my family. i must maintain a sort of holding pattern with them in order to see the kids and be a part of their life. but even this new detached attitude doesn't serve me.

we all got together for brunch today and my brother, the one with cancer, was a mess. he had a bandage on his neck that he was bleeding through, and he could barely walk. he couldn't sit at the table and he couldn't stand because his leg is too swollen and it causes him pain.

and he left five minutes after we sat down. but there was all of this drama around it. i walked him out trying to convince him to let me drive him home, and he wouldn't hear of it. so i help him with his coat and walk him half way to his car, because i don't know how much i should push, and how much i should let him have his independence. i go back inside and my stoner cousin and slooty are heading out and i go with. because all great things are decided by a group of three women outside.

brother pulls the car up to the front and i talk to him through the window, and he starts crying. i don't want to go home and be alone, but that's my life. i just wish slooty would step up to the plate. blah blah blah. and his nose is bleeding and he won't let me take him home. so i tell him i'll call him in an hour or so, after breakfast.

i go back in, and the kids have untwisted into their old selves again, and slooty tells me that he was yelling at them before we got there and calling her a bitch and the kids were telling him not to swear in public and to leave her alone. she said she felt terrible because both kids were totally embarassed by him.

and that broke my heart. he's obviously coming toward the end, of something, his life, i don't know.

so i didn't post yesterday, that's true. but it doesn't mean that i didn't write. i did. i wrote a caribou until they kicked me out and them i wrote at the bowling alley until the people there actually made me sick with the "let's do a shot, what kinda shot do you want? HEY, what's a good shot?" at least i didn't smell like smoke and whores when i left, just whores.

and i wrote, i wrote tons. venomous spew about everyone in my life. everyone except boo. she is the only one who hasn't disappointed me with her lack of action or indecision. even when i correct her (she's started throwing things when she's mad) she cries and then forgives me and hugs me with a meaning i cannot put into words.

i know that it is incredibly unfair to put that kind of immense responsibility on a child. she is not responsible for my happiness. we have a wonderful toaist relationship, she is what she is, i am what i am. but like i said, she is the only one who hasn't disappointed me in the last six weeks.

and to top it off, she has a double ear infection. her first. granted, she's 17 months old and there is some success to be had about keeping her from it for this long. it is an inevitable part of childhood. but hubbin and i can't help feeling that in some way, we didn't protect her enough from everything that is happening to us. that somehow it spilled over and affected her and we could have prevented it.

thank god i listened to my instincts and got her to the doctor. thank god i'm not one of these anti-antibiotics person. "it's gross? and in both ears? and antibiotics will help? BRING IT ON!"
i love the thick pink bubble-gum-goop as i call it. it means she's going to feel better in two days. i remember seeing that stuff in the fridge when i was a kid and i never remember it being a bad thing. plus, she's got to have shots in two weeks and that will be the perfect time to recheck her ears.

i just can't shut off the part of me that feels like i didn't do a good enough job keeping her from all of this. it's like the one person i have every right to save and somehow i failed. even though i know i didn't. not really, not terribly so.

no one can make me take something the wrong way like tig.

in a brief conversation today, we were joking about what we do, him being all sales manager of the year and getting the highest quota, whatever. and me, doing housework and changing poopy diapers. and when i tried to list more of my qualifications i completely fell ass over elbow and couldn't think of one redeeming thing. finaly i said "i have boobs" as if i could be summed up by the basest of what makes women women. it was humiliating.

i didn't say. i'm a writer, an actor, a mother, a daughter. i didn't mention that for the past five and a half years all i've focused on was, getting pregnant, staying pregnant, having a baby, raising a baby, tending to a terminally ill parent, having a toddler, raising a toddler, burying said parent, and being ok with all of it.

i DO plenty.

i pay bills and send cards and return phone calls and research daycare centers. i am running point on the basement remodel. and no, i don't feel like i need to justify myself to anyone, especially tig. but as hubbin pointed out, he likes to push my buttons. and that's true, but only when he KNOWS he's pushing my buttons. he has no idea what has been churning in my mind today, all day. it wasn't until i said down an read a little Madeleine L'Engle that i started to feel normal.

the quality of self is not in definition of self, it is in being self, becoming self and staying self. and you can quote me.

today is one of those minnesota days that's painfulto look at. fresh white snow, blinding white light, i was squinting with my sunglasses on.

i was driving back from breakfast and a bank run with my dad. boo was asleep in the back seat and for once i didn't have the radio on. and i felt like i was actually going somewhere. it wasn't all meaningless, there was a reason and i was going to get there eventually. and it was so peaceful, joyous even.

then i changed lanes and the sun blinded me in my blind spot and i almost sideswiped a car, but i corrected and moved on.

also under annoying joy, i made an appointment today, an appointment for March - at CRM. more on that later.

what is it?
vitamins?
a glass of water?
a piece of fruit?

once a day, everyday, i will write. i will put my thoughts down, not editing. maybe going back and spell checking, but not deleting and rewriting. it's my new years resolution.

yesterday, new years eve, was a great day. today was too, but not in the same way. yesterday hubbin and i went to the vikings game and it was awful, just awful. so we drank beer and talked and when the wave got started in the stands, it was, seriously, the most exciting part of the game. the difficult part was getting the big P at the dome. i almost cried, but then stopped. sure beer is sometimes followed by tears, but did i really convince myself that i was pregnant? no. but i wanted to be. still do.

and i asked myself, as i slipped the kind stranger lady's extra slender tampon into my pocket, if i had to do it all over again, would i? the answer is an instant yes. boo was four years in the making, with help, lots of help. but she's here. she found us. she fought to be with us as much as we fought to be with her. and i'll do it all over again in a heartbeat. and that thought made getting my period at the dome, not that bad. and to the kind stranger lady - extra slender? COME ON? what are you, fucking twelve?

but that's how this site got started. my darling curse is a song by magnet. and there is a line that way up on the banner forever it and it just stayed with me. "my broken heart won't restart whenever i read what's in my chart". i took it like a doctor's chart, since hubbin and i were seeing a lot of doctors. and not that kids are a curse, they aren't, but i felt like i was cursed. but that's another story. back to yesterday....

rain turned to snow on our way home from the game and then we cleaned up for our night out. we went to see "dreamgirls" (i almost typed "showgirls' ha! WAY different movie) and it was fantastic. by far the front runner for an oscar. then we discovered a new resturaunt with an outstanding wine list - all i'm going to say is 20 bottles for $20 bucks - and 120 other bottles to boot.

the food was great, the company outstanding. i told hubbin that he couldn't call me by my real name this year, and if he did, he'd have to put a quarter in a jar. no quarters yet, but i've rarely been out of ear shot too. hmmm...have to think about that one.

boo discovered snow today or as she calls it "no". and cold is "co", like go. and no, is more "now" with a little head shake. she didn't want her mittens on, and after all the trouble i went through to have auntie sarah make a mitten string. then we had tea and donut holes and did laundry.

not a bad new years day. and i'm not going to try to lose any weight this year, or eat better, or try and work out. every year i say i'm going to do those things, and i never do. so this year i am just coming out and making a point to not only not say it, but to say that i'm not going to do it too. that shit is for the birds.

which is one of the many new things i'll be saying this year, that and "ah, mother of christ!"

fuck physical betterment. this sister is going to work on her mind ya'll, oh yeah, and get a tattoo. i'm serious, i'm getting one. soon.